August 31st
by MargaritaVille108
Summary: It's August 31st, the night before Teddy Lupin begins school at Hogwarts.  His trunk is packed, his supplies are bought, but there is one more thing he needs to do before he leaves.


Here's another one-shot. I apologize for the length, but I wanted it to be just one chapter. I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors and if I went off canon. I'd really appreciate it if you could review. Thank you!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in this story. The credit belongs to J.K. Rowling.

August 31st

Fading chimes echoed quietly through the hallway. It was eleven o'clock. Teddy had been lying awake in bed for two hours, his grandmother insisting he go to bed at nine to be rested up for his first day of school. He sat up and strained to hear if his grandmother was still reading in the sitting room. She had the habit of tapping her foot while she read. He was sure he heard her go to bed around an hour before. He had been waiting for her to go to bed. He pulled his covers off and got off the bed as quickly and quietly as possible always believing his grandmother could hear if his breathing pattern changed. Walking across his room he took a moment to examine his trunk—a new deep colored trunk with golden lettering T.R. Lupin above the lock. Every time he looked at it his mind was swarmed with thoughts of the upcoming morning. _What would it be like finally getting to go on the Hogwarts Express?_ His Uncle Harry had told him so many stories about it. _Would he make any friends? Would people think he was weird because he was a_ _metamorphmagus?_ Thinking of the next day made him turn his head to his bedside table. The only item residing on the table besides the lamp was a wand—a new willow, unicorn hair core, wand –all his. He had been tempted to touch it—try it out hundreds of times, but he knew he wasn't allowed to do magic outside of school.

Sneaking past his grandmother required extra precautions. Changing his hair, skin tone, and eyes to the darkest shade he could he took a quick glance at his reflection in the mirror next to his dresser. He had done this so many times before he no longer needed to look in the mirror. As he approached his grandmother's room he stopped for a minute by the door to listen. She seemed to be asleep. He could tell by her heavy breathing. He slipped past her room and made it into the sitting room before changing his appearance back to normal. He walked to the table adjacent to the overstuffed couch switching on a lamp to its dimmest light. He remembered the first time he had tried to find his way to the lamp in the dark. He tripped over the rug and smacked his face on the table, breaking his nose and of course waking his grandmother.

With the light of the lamp, he made his way back down the hallway to the closet. He gently turned the knob careful not to open the door too far. If he opened it more than halfway it would creak. He slipped inside. Behind a line of coats and an assortment of miscellaneous hats, gloves, and scarves, which Teddy was sure his grandmother didn't know about (If she knew about them, they would be folded neatly in color order.), was a trunk. It was old, the wood was graying, and it smelled of old parchment, but, it was the most important thing in the house to Teddy—even more important than his new wand. Inside was everything he knew about his parents. Everything he associated with them, except the tombstones he visited everyone once in awhile. He grabbed the handle of the drunk and began to drag it out of the closet. He almost had it completely out of the closet when it hit the door making a loud creak. Teddy froze pleading his grandmother wouldn't hear it. By some sort of miracle she didn't wake up. Teddy waited a few more minutes in stunned silence before proceeding to drag the trunk into the sitting room.

Teddy let go of the trunk when he made it to the area rug. He sat in front of it and pulled open the lid setting it down gently. Upon opening it, he was greeted with the same familiar sight—stacks of pictures, old parchment, newspaper articles. Not having a set place to begin, he grabbed the first picture that crossed his eye—a picture of his grandmother, grandfather, and mother when she was a little girl. A larger version of the same picture was sitting on the end table of the sitting room. Although Teddy had never met his grandfather, he was familiar to him. He of course had been married to Teddy's grandmother for years so she always recounted stories of their lives together. Teddy knew that a lot of children never knew their grandparents. Of course their circumstances were different. Their grandfather wasn't killed. After taking a few moments to look at the picture, he placed it next to him and grabbed the next, a picture of his mother. Although he felt she looked much younger than seventeen he knew that was her age by the sheet of parchment in her hand reading N.E.W.T. at the top. He knew, or was pretty sure he knew, that when you were seventeen you took the N.E.W.T. exams. Although the marks he could make out were very good, (they had to be. Uncle Harry said you need excellent marks to be an auror), his mother wasn't grinning with excitement. She held the parchment up at the level of her head, so most of the marks could be deciphered, half smiling, and sporting pink hair. He could tell she was bored because her hair was a little dimmer than he'd seen in other pictures. He guessed she only took the picture at his grandmother's urging. Another picture mounted on the hallway's wall was his mother, in almost the same position, just a younger face, holding a paper that read O.W.L.S. at the top. The next item he pulled out of the trunk was her N.E.W.T. results. He read down the list.

**Ancient Runes O**

**Charms O**

**Defense Against the Dark Arts O **

**Herbology O**

**History of Magic E**

**Potions O**

**Transfiguration O**

Teddy laughed at the O in transfiguration. That was one class in which he was pretty confident that he would do well. From his grandmother's describing his mother as "not being able to sit still," he guessed, though she must have enjoyed History of Magic to pursue it, that it was a little too boring for her to learn enough to achieve an O in the N.E.W.T. He folded up the parchment and sat it next to him along with the other pictures. He had come to find that the later pictures of his mother had not made it into places in the house before she died. Perhaps it was too hard for his grandmother to look at them. He pulled out another lose picture. Three women were sitting at a table drinking butter beers. One he recognized as his mother. The other two, one with dark eyes, freckles and a long brown plait, the other with lighter shorter, hair and greenish eyes, he didn't recognize. Presumably they were his mother's friends. They all were laughing, his mother seemingly uncontrollably. She and the girl with the plait wore Hufflepuff scarves while the lighter haired girl wore a Ravenclaw scarf. He smiled at the picture. He loved his mother's laugh. Even though he couldn't hear it, just seeing it, he knew he liked it. It was warm and light, not screechy or throaty. He could tell.

At the bottom of the chest was another small box. It was a deep purple. On the lid _Dora_ was engraved in magenta lettering. It looked somewhat like a jewelry box. His grandmother said that his grandfather had given it to his mother when she was five and she kept it ever since. Every time he looked inside he felt a little guilty. The box was personal. He wasn't sure whether his mother would have been happy to have him looking through it. He was, however, able to convince himself that she wouldn't mind. The box was one of his favorite things in the chest. It was his favorite because it was completely his mother's. Even though there were pictures and stories they were his grandmother's, friends', or his uncle Harry's. With this box she wasn't just a picture or a person in a story. She was real. He opened the lid. Inside was an odd assortment of items—on top a picture of a baby with turquoise hair fast asleep (it made him happy that his mother put his picture in her memory box. He knew that he was obviously important to her, but having his picture in her box was equivalent to her saying, "I love you"); a postcard from Paris sent form someone named Katie; tickets to a Weird Sisters concert; small straw looking sticks tied together which Teddy guess was from one of his mother's brooms; a piece of parchment with TONKS drawn fancily in the middle surrounded by miscellaneous doodles of stars, quaffles and snitches, and feathers; folded up pieces of paper written in scribble saying, "by the lake at 5:30," "three broomsticks—Saturday," and "nice hair Ms. Tonks;" newspaper clippings about the Holyhead Harpies; and a small nameplate reading N. Tonks, which according to his grandmother was her nameplate on her desk at the Auror Department. He closed the box and put it back at the bottom of the chest. Next in the box was his favorite picture—the picture of his mother and father on their wedding day. He held the picture up to get a better look. His grandmother told him they had gotten married quickly due to the war that was taking place. He often wondered if they would have wanted a bigger wedding, or at least a little bigger than it was. From his grandmother's description there were only about ten guests, if that. Just looking at the picture he knew that didn't matter to his mother. She looked so happy. Along with a wide smile, she wore a simple, slender white dress, and her signature pink hair. His father, though his emotions were not as obvious as Tonks's, to Teddy looked happy too. He smiled closed-mouth, but warm and happy nonetheless, and wore a dark suit. Teddy knew of his dad's condition, but he could only make out one scar on his face. He often tried to decide which one of his parents he looked most like. His grandmother always said he looked like his mother. He guessed it was because of his spirit. His mom always seemed so hyper with a spring in her step. Her eyes always sparkled. He had her nose and pale complexion. His dad, from the pictures he had, always seemed sickly or tired, but Teddy saw at least a little of himself in him. Though his hair was darker than his father's it was the same shaggy texture and they had the same pale green eyes. He could change his appearance to look more like one parent than the other, but he liked being a mix of both. He put the picture behind him. He was taking it with him. That was one of his motives for taking out the trunk that night, besides the fact that he knew he wouldn't get to look at it for awhile. He already had a picture on his dresser of his mother, father, and him, but he wanted to take their wedding picture too. He hoped his grandmother wouldn't notice it was gone, not that he thought she'd be angry that he wanted it. He remembered the first day he really got to look at the trunk. He was about six or seven and was playing hide and seek when he stumbled upon it. He remembered being in awe that his grandmother had collected so much and how he worried because she started crying looking at it. That's why he always waited until she was asleep to open it. He wondered if she ever looked at it when he was asleep or out with his Uncle Harry. He wondered if she would look at it more when he was gone. He was worried about her—worried she'd be lonely. He knew that raising him wasn't in her plan or at least, she'd have her husband with her, she always told Teddy she was so lucky to have him because he kept her busy. _What would she do without him?_

After looking at a few more photos and newspaper clippings, one in particular that made his eyes tear, the news paper clipping announcing the "fallen heroes" of the war, he closed up the trunk careful to put everything back in its exact place except the wedding photo. He dragged it quicker back to the closet that when he took it out, but was still careful to be as quiet as possible.

Before getting into bed he opened the drawer of his bedside table. He remembered there was something else he needed to take to school with him. Inside the drawer was his own collection of memories of his father. He always felt bad because he didn't have much relating to his father compared to his mother. Because his mother and father hadn't been married long before their deaths, his grandmother didn't have too many pictures of them. As far as he knew his father's parents had been gone awhile. Luckily, his uncle Harry was close with his father. Apparently Harry's father and he were best friends. When Teddy's father died, Harry collected some of his possessions and gave a lot of them to Teddy. Against the wall were two stacks of books, most concerning Defense Against the Dark Arts. Inside the drawer was a few newspaper articles about various Ministry happenings, a book of notes for lesson plans when he was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, a picture of a group of young wizards and witches that his uncle Harry said was the original Order of the Phoenix, a secret society during the war, another picture of his father and his three best friends James, Sirius, and Peter sitting at a table in the Great Hall. Teddy had already taken his father's prefect badge and pinned it to the inside of his new schoolbag. After fumbling through a few more photos and notes, he came across a small, glass, empty bottle. His uncle Harry said his father probably kept his wolfsbane potion inside. Teddy sat it down carefully on its side so it wouldn't break. Finally at the bottom of the drawer he found what he was looking for—the cork to the bottle. A few days before, when his grandmother was over the neighbors', Teddy snuck into her room and stole a needle and thread from her sewing box. He put the string through the cork making it into a necklace. He took it from the drawer and slipped it around his neck. He always had a bit of his mother with him. They shared the same metamorphmagus talent. He wanted something of his father's to take with him. Although he never identified his father by his transformations, he took the cork because he knew that his father probably always had it for precaution inside a jacket or pants pocket.

Fading chimes echoed quietly through the hallway. It was twelve o'clock. Teddy pulled his covers up to his neck and tried to go to sleep. Today was September 1st, his first day of school.


End file.
